Band Aids and Brownies
by smurfette729
Summary: Just some Jam fluff. Oneshot.


A/N: Sort of a response to the Injury Challenge at MTT. The dialogue at the beginning isn't great because I'm not great at it, but it gets better, I promise! Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I wish I did.

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"Happy Monday, Beesley."

Jim walks into the kitchen to deposit his ham and cheese sandwich in the refrigerator. He smells chocolate and notices that Pam is arranging something on a plate.

"What's that? Brownies?"

"Of course." Pam smiles.

"Double chocolate?"

"Obviously."

Jim reaches for one, already dying for a taste. Pam makes the best brownies.

She slaps his hand lightly.

"They're for later. I'm just getting them ready now, while it's still quiet and there aren't a bunch of people around to try and steal them." She throws a pointed look at Jim and gestures towards the knife sitting next to the half-cut pan of brownies.

They're part of Michael's latest idea for team building. His plan was to have a party ever Monday. He'd hoped it would increase productivity if everyone started off the week on a positive note. "What better way to start the week?" he'd said to the skeptical office.

The first party, thrown several weeks ago, had been a major production and had actually sort of raised everyone's spirits. It had been one of the better parties he'd thrown. But then Michael had realized that the party-planning committee had spent more time planning than doing any actual work, and that by having a party all day, every Monday, he had effectively _decreased_ productivity by twenty percent. So 'Monday Madness,' as he called it, had been dwindled down to nothing more than a different employee bringing treats for the whole office every Monday. Pam had been assigned to this week.

Pam picks up the knife again, preparing to cut the rest of the brownies, and Jim sees his chance to grab one from the half-filled plate while she's occupied.

Pam sees Jim's hand move slowly towards the plate, picking up speed as it gets closer, and moves to stop him, taking her eyes off of the her task and shooting a hand out to catch him before he reaches the plate.

When she feels the blade of the knife cut into the tip of her finger, she thinks she may have been focusing on the wrong thing. This strikes her as funny and she thinks she might laugh if not for the searing pain that brings tears to her eyes.

She gasps and drops the knife, bringing her finger to her lips, as though trying to suck the pain out of it.

Jim's eyes widen as he watches it happen, his joy at snatching a brownie instantly replaces by guilt. He puts the brownie back on the plate, his need for chocolate replaced by his need to make sure Pam is okay. He reaches for Pam's hand, gently pulling her finger from her mouth to get a better look at it.

"Pam, are you all right?"

"I cut myself."

She feels stupid for saying this, but he's holding her hand and he's concerned about her and it impedes her ability to think of things to say. She barely notices the pain now, doesn't realize she's dripping blood on the floor, bright red drops against the faded gray linoleum.

"Jesus, Pam!"

Jim notices the blood. He grabs a paper towel and wraps it tightly around her finger, squeezing gently, hoping that applying pressure will be enough to stop the bleeding. He hopes she doesn't need stitches. He doesn't think he could stand it if she needs stitches.

He grabs her other hand and forms it around the injured finger, telling her to apply pressure and hold it above her head. He's not sure why, but he thinks maybe this will help, thinks he read that somewhere.

He rushes through the office and over to the shelves where they keep the first aid kit. It takes him a few minutes to find it, half buried beneath stacks of paper and highlighters. He swears softly when he finally does see it, right at eye level, in the very spot at which he'd been staring for at least a minute.

No one looks up from their desks.

When he returns to the kitchen, he finds Pam slumped over the table, her arms sticking straight up. His heart stops for an instant before he remembers that she's only cut her finger.

Pam notices the concern on Jim's face and realizes how she must look. She quickly sits up.

"My arms got tired. I figured this way my finger would still be above my head." The relief that washes over Jim's face is so great that she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Jim lets out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and sets the first aid kit on the table, opening it and removing the things he needs. Pam jokes with him, calling him 'Doctor Jim.' For the first time since she hurt herself, he relaxes.

He grabs Pam's uninjured hand and pulls her towards the sink, thinking they should clean the cut before bandaging it. Luckily, the bleeding seems to have slowed and he doesn't think stitches will be necessary.

Jim washes Pam's cut for her. He knows she is perfectly capable of doing it herself, but he feels responsible for her injury and wants to help in any way he can. After washing it, he pours peroxide on the cut. He thinks he might have heard that you're not supposed to do that, but it's in the first aid kit and, anyway, his mother used to do it to him. He's still alive, right? He figures it can't be that bad.

As he pours the peroxide, he notices Pam wincing and sucking her breath in through her teeth. He remembers how much it used to hurt when he was little and had hurt himself, causing his mom to douse the injury in peroxide. He remembers that she used to blow on it to take the sting away. He leans over and blows softly on Pam's finger, careful not to inflict more pain on her than he already has.

Pam is having a hard time breathing. The feel of Jim's warm breath on her skin, his hands covering hers. It's almost too much to take. She thinks that if he keeps it up, he can have all the brownies he wants. He can eat the whole damn pan.

He stops before she's ready for it to be over and wraps her finger in a Band Aid. He covers the Band Aid with a Care Bears sticker and Pam is about to laugh, about to ask him where he got it, about to make fun of him for being a ten year old girl at heart.

Before she can do any of those things, Jim does something that makes her already labored breathing stop completely, makes her heart beat in her ears, makes her stomach puddle around her feet.

He brings her finger upwards, lowers his head, and gently presses his lips to the spot where her cut lies hidden beneath a Band Aid and a pink bear with a rainbow on its belly, holding a bouquet of heart-shaped balloons.

He looks up at her, smiles, and assuring her that the surgery was a success and that she can expect his bill in the mail.

All memory of pain now gone, Pam thinks that one of Michael's ideas really does work. This is definitely the best way to start the week.


End file.
